Prologue: Sybilla
by faithless-dreams
Summary: A young mother is disturbed by her sons dream of a missing girl, only for a story to open up about young Sybilla's life & the torment she faces every day. Premonitions are not easy to see, especially when they are all about death. But with the life of a Consort? Follow Sybilla's journey as the life of Hades consort & her dream to escape. Or for everything to fall back in place.


All of the televisions in the Inland Empire, dawned a face. A girl, just fourteen years old had gone missing. Her eyes crinkled in a smile, her lips spread wide over teeth that gleamed with silver brackets. Her hair streamed long around her cheeks.

"If you've seen this girl, i n the past twenty-four hours, please call the tip hotline on the screen, you would be making one family extremely happy."  
Said the male anchor, as the camera swooped back into focus on his face. A loud drawn out sigh, the woman anchor now, "What a shame, I'm sure she'll be home fairly soon." She said, her blue eyes somber. But her voice not portraying her belief.

Annamaria Lopez, hit the power button on her remote. Her eyes dimming slowly, as the light faded from the room.

"Mommy," the little boy, who had been asleep on the couch whispered.

"Yes, baby?" Annamaria stood up swiftly, wiping her cheeks quickly, she flitted over to the other side of the room, stooping down to cradle the little boy in her arms.

"I know her," said the little boy, his eyes slitted with sleep but focused enough to tell his mother what he'd seen.

"Do you?" Annamaria replied quickly, she stood up, and made her way down the hall flicking the living room light off. Casting darkness behind the two of them.

"She was in my dream." He said to her, cheek pressed her collar bone. She stroked the lovely dark curls that circled his ears, "Was she?" Annamaria asked, turning into her own bedroom, putting him to sleep in his own bed tonight didn't seem fitting. Knowing a family out there didn't have their little girl safely in her own bed. Her throat closed tightly at the thought.

"Yes Momma," he murmured.

She jostled him slightly awake, taking his shoes and shirt off, slipping him into his pajamas. He yawned widely, "She said she's sorry," the little boy said, dark eyes falling shut.

Annamaria, crouched onto her heels in front of him looked puzzled. "Why is she sorry?"  
The boy sat up tall for a moment, then hunched back forward. "She's old in my dream," he says quietly, "not like you but old."  
Annamaria's brows furrow together, "She sorry for what?"  
The boys lush bottom lip juts out, soft and pink, his eyes nearly shut, "She's sorry about Daddy." the little boy's head falls forward to his chest, barely awake.

"About Daddy?" Annamaria whispers.

"Yup," the little boy says, "but she said he's okay. She promised." Annamaria's eyes sparked instantly with tears, the little boys body was heavy with sleep just in front of her, she laid him back softly on the pillows, tucking the sheets and comforter around him and she stood.  
Annamaria stowed herself away into the bathroom, sitting down on the toilet, letting sobs fill her entire body.

The very next morning, a knock sounded at the front door. The little boy was still tucked neatly in bed, but Annamaria's eyes were heavy with sleep and swollen almost completely shut from the tears that she'd cried most of the night before.

Two men stood formally at the door, one with arms limp by his side, with a very open and angular face. The other, his arms crossed neatly behind his back, somber eyes and a round chin.

"Ma'am?" The closer one said, with his angular features.

She took in the dark green coat, and the little nametag declaring his last name: Botkin.

"Yes?" She said, her voice a whisper, her throat tightening.

His beret tipped to the right side of his face.

"Are you Mrs. Nathaniel Lopez, wife of _Sergeant Nathaniel Lopez?_"

Annamaria nodded slowly, tears forming in the corners of her eyes. She stared straight at him. This Botkin, man. His eyes were clear and blue, like the sky cast out behind him. Almost as if he were a painting on a large canvas.

"On behalf of the Secretary of the Army, I regret to inform you that your husband _Nathaniel Lopez,_ was killed in action this morning in Iraq, as a result of wounds received in hostile action."

Annamaria's eyes had already started leaking, big wet tears onto her cheeks. Her vision blurred before her as she crumpled to the ground, Botkin's arms went out quickly to steady her as she knelt at the thresh hold of her home. Sobs wracked her body, her stomach turned inside her body. After what felt like hours, could only have been a few minutes. She heard the patter of feet behind her, a small hand snaked out and tapped her shoulder lightly.  
Annamaria wiped her face quickly, then turned to see the little boy standing there.

"Momma?" He said, sleep lacing his voice and face.

She nodded, "Yes, baby?"  
He looked at her for a few solid moments, wiping sleep from his large dark eyes. "Was she right?"

Annamaria stared at the little boy, her breath coming out in short pants.

She could feel Botkin staring at the little boy from behind her. She nodded, "Yes, she was right."


End file.
